All Our Years
by Yonder Come Day
Summary: One shot. One year after the Battle of Hogwarts. A reflective Harry visits Hogwarts and contemplates his life, the places and people in it, and sees in Hogwarts the place in which he grew up.


Disclaimer. Don't own Harry Potter, etc.

All Our Years

Harry found that the blazing heat was making him feel sluggish as he made his away across the lawn.

It never usually got this hot at Hogwarts. Even though it was the height of the summer, Hogwarts' northern and mountainous location usually protected it from the heat that affected the other parts of the country. Not this summer, however. This summer was hot, hot, _hot._

School had ended two weeks ago, and the Hogwarts Express had come to take home the students. The emptiness of the lawn was jarring—Harry had never seen it completely empty, save for at night—and he missed the presence of the hundreds of teenagers that usually roamed across the grass.

As he walked, he mentally gave justifications for his evening excursion to Hogwarts.

He wanted to visit Dumbledore's grave—well, it _was_ almost two years to the day after his death. He wanted to tell Professor McGonagall in person that he had been accepted into the Auror programme and would soon begin his training. Perhaps he would go over to Hagrid's for (iced) tea.

But really, these were all reasons thought up as he had walked up through the gates. Truthfully, he just wanted to see Hogwarts. He had barely been there since the aftermath of the battle a year ago, a period of time that, when looked back upon, seemed dazed and blurry.

Even though the sun was beginning to set, sending slanting rays of light across the grass, the heat seemed to intensify as Harry approached the castle. Jogging up the stone steps, he pushed open the doors into the blessedly cool entrance hall. All was quiet. He peered into the Great Hall as he passed it, thinking of the countless meals that he had passed there. When he received his Firebolt. Luna in her lion hat. The shock of joy he felt when delivered the first of his letters from Sirius. Quirrell bursting in, having succeeded in getting the troll into the dungeon. The dead, lined up in peaceful yet chilling rows. Ron shoving food in his mouth at each and every meal. Hermione studying over breakfast.

Making his way past the Great Hall and deeper into the castle, Harry found his feet not taking him to McGonagall's office as he had intended, but to Gryffindor Tower. Upon his arrival, he stopped and gazed at the portrait of the sleeping Fat Lady. For six years this was his home. He stood there for a long time, finally tearing himself away, but he still didn't go to McGonagall's office. Instead, he found his feet taking him on a walking tour of the places that held significance for him. The Room of Requirement, the statue of the humpbacked witch, the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, the Owlery. Dumbledore's office—he would always think of it as Dumbledore's office, no matter how many additional headmasters there might be—and various used and empty classrooms that all held memories. He even flirted with the idea of visiting Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, but decided that perhaps that wasn't such a good idea.

He soon found himself outside again. The Quidditch Pitch, the greenhouses, Dumbledore's tomb. Eyeing the Whomping Willow from a distance in a strange contradiction of emotions, he walked along the lake, His heart jumped to his throat as he spied the tree where James Potter had once lay with his friends. Harry himself had lay there with Ron and Hermione many times.

And there…there was where he had produced his first full Patronus, saving himself and Sirius from the dementors. Harry paused, staring at the spot, trying to rein in his emotions. Before him stood the part of the lake where he had collapsed with Sirius, gripping his arm, determined to not let the dementors take him. Behind him sat Dumbledore's tomb. With a sudden jolt Harry realized that he didn't know here Remus had died. He stood there motionless; eyes growing damp.

Several minutes later, he came to, and realized that it had begun to grow dark. The first stars were beginning to come out. Harry felt strange, unsure of his emotions, and sticky from the humidity. He realized that he had never gone to see Professor McGonagall, then thought that since it had gotten so late, perhaps he would go to her another time.

But Hagrid…would Hagrid be home? Making his way over to Hagrid's cabin, Harry looked at the stars, and smiled when he spied Sirius._ The dog days of summer,_ Harry thought ironically, and paused. The star seemed to wink and twinkle at him. After a moment, he continued on his way.

He knew immediately as soon as the cabin came into sight that Hagrid must not be home, as there were no lights on. All the same, he knocked on the cabin's door, but there wasn't even an answering bark from Fang. He must be out doing…well, whatever it was that Hagrid did. Harry rummaged in his pockets, looking for a piece of parchment and a quill with which to write a note telling Hagrid he had come by and asking when he _could_ come over for tea. Preferably iced if the heat stayed up.

The quill Harry found slipped out of his fingers as soon as it was out of his pocket. He stooped to pick it up, and turned to lean against the wall of the cabin in order to write the note more easily. In the middle of his turn, he paused, and stopped, his gaze diverted. Hogwarts Castle loomed above him. He looked at it for a long time, remembering the first time he had ever seen it at age eleven, going in boats across the lake with the other nervous first years. It seemed so long ago. Could a person really grow and change so much over the course of a few years at a school?

Shaking his head with a strange sense of wonderment, he scribbled Hagrid a note and shoved it under his door. As he left Hogwarts, he never once turned back as he made his way across the lawn, through the gates, and down into Hogsmeade. He entered The Three Broomsticks, spotting the table and its occupant that he knew would be there. He walked over to a waiting glass of Madam Rosmerta's summer special, iced butterbeer. It was as refreshing in the heat as the standard buttereer was warming in the winter.

"Pig brought you this," Ron said by way of greeting.

He was noisily slurping what appeared to be his second glass, but paused to hand Harry a letter. Glancing down on it, Harry saw it was from Andromeda Tonks. Ripping open the envelope, he was about to scan the letter, preparing to read it in full later, when a photograph slipped out and landed on the table. Harry grinned—Andromeda had sent him a picture of baby Teddy zooming around on the toy broomstick Harry had given him for his first birthday a few months previous. He looked down fondly at his baby godson, remembering the picture of another baby boy playing on a toy broomstick given to him by his godfather, taken long ago.

"Hermione's making us _dinner,_" Ron said, as if it was one of the oddest things he'd ever heard of. He paused. "D'you think she's a good cook?"

Harry shrugged, sipping his butterbeer. "She seems to be. You had no objections to the mashed potatoes she made for Christmas."

"Yeah, but that was only mashed potatoes. This is a full _meal._"

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Course it will," Ron winked at him. "I'm staying over at her place tonight."

Harry snorted into his glass, trying to push out the images that rose, unbidden, to his mind. "Um…thanks for sharing?"

"That's what I'm here for, mate," Ron took a swig of butterbeer, looked at Harry speculatively, then blanched. Harry knew he was trying to ignore the images that had surely risen up in his head regarding Harry and Ginny. At the thought, Harry's own images of he and Ginny emerged. He desperately tried to push them out of his mind. He knew Ron didn't know Occlumency, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Quickly moving onto other subjects, Harry and Ron finished their iced butterbeers, paid, and stood up to leave. Once outside, Ron took a deep breath of the night air and looked towards Hogwarts, its shadowy form visible even in the darkness.

"Thinking of…everything?" Ron asked after they had stood in silence for a minute or two. He was being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Yes," Harry answered immediately. "All our years. The war. The Marauders. Sirius. Dumbledore. And Remus, and Tonks, and—"

"Fred." Ron finished for him.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a moment. Then Ron murmured, still quiet, "We grew up good, didn't we, Harry?"

"Yeah, we did," Harry looked at his friend, and thought of Hermione in her kitchen, fussily preparing them dinner. He felt content.

"Well, Hermione will surely be about ready to bite our heads off, huh?" Ron said brightly, tactfully and effectively shifting the mood. "Let's get a move on, shall we? Hogwarts isn't going anywhere."

"Sure isn't," Harry agreed. "Ready?"

A moment later, they had Apparated and were gone, disappearing into the hot summer night.

A/N: This is my first completed fanfiction (and first time I've posted here) in many, many years. I was inspired to write this by the fact that I just (as in, two months ago) graduated college, and last week as I was finishing up a DH reread I had to return to my campus for an afternoon. It got me thinking and this is what resulted. I hope you enjoyed it, and of course, please review!


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